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Let’s Get Re-Started (Sourdough Edition)

Sourdough Bread
January 24, 2012 By In breads & breakfast, eat me

Sourdough baking is an art. I keep reading that, over and over again, in baking instructions and supportive blog posts. But what I’m beginning to realize is that sourdough is not just an “art” in terms of its many variables, but also in how it will test you, the artist: thrill you with its vigor, slay you with its stubbornness, awe you with the perfect caramel color of its crust, yet refuse to follow whatever logic you thought you grasped about baking bread when you walked into your kitchen. Or at least that’s the line I’ve been feeding myself, since two weekends of trials have left me a little hungry for, you know, actual edible bread.

Despite my “third time’s a charm” success with those Tartine bread experiments last year, I admittedly lost interest in the labor-intensive process over the very hot summer. I revitalized my sourdough enthusiasm this winter with a brand new starter (for $6.95, it was just too tempting a creature to not tack on to my last King Arthur Flour order). It’s a vigorous little beast, but user error on my first Tartine re-try resulted in a flat loaf and a poorly cooked pizza, all on the same day. It was quite dispiriting.

But onward and upward to true adventure, eh? I tossed the photographic evidence of my failures into that “disasters” sub-folder I’m saving for a rainy day post of hilarity, and this past weekend I gave it all another go. For this venture, I settled on the King Arthur recipe that came packaged with the starter itself, but this being art, I immediately started tweaking. I couldn’t help myself! Once again the half of the dough I relegated to pizza crust was not food blog worthy (attributable, I believe, to a too-soft dough combined with my over-heavy hand with the olive oil). The loaf of bread the recipe produced, however, deserves a turn on the Wonderland catwalk. It might not be my perfect sourdough statement–yet!–but its thick and crispy golden crust and perfectly tangy wide-holed crumb are worth passing on, even if my poor bread slashing damaged its cover-girl good looks somewhat.

That just makes it “artisan,” right? The education continues.

Sourdough Bread

Sourdough Bread: It's science!

Sourdough Bread: Preparation

Sourdough Bread
adapted from King Arthur Flour

8 oz sourdough starter
12 oz warm water
21 oz flour
1 T kosher salt
2 tsps sugar

Feed your sourdough starter. After 10 hours at room temperature, remove an 8 oz portion and combine with the water and 12.75 oz of flour. Mix by hand (literally: after my Tartine training, I get my clean fingers in the dough whenever I can). Cover and let rest at a cool room temperature for 4 hours, then refrigerate for 12 hours.

When ready to proceed, remove dough from the refrigerator and knead in the salt, sugar, and enough flour to make a soft dough. I left mine a little on the wet side, but this is an art/science, like people keep typing. Experiments are needed to achieve the ideal crust/crumb/sourness/rise/etc. to suit your tastes. It is, perhaps, the ultimate story problem.

Cover and allow to rise until quite puffy (mine took 4 hours using my oven’s proofing feature). Remove the dough from the bowl and divide into two portions.

Shape each piece of dough into a round and place, top side down, in a rice-flour-dusted, cloth-lined banneton. Leave to rise an additional 2-4 hours.

When ready to bake, place a dutch oven or other appropriate covered pot in the oven and preheat to 450°F. When hot, remove the cooking vessel and (placing a circle of parchment inside to prevent sticking if desired) gently flip one portion of dough out of the basket and into the pot. Slash the top of the dough (a razor blade will work if you don’t have a lame, just be careful not to burn yourself on the hot pot), cover with the lid and return to the oven, baking for 25 minutes. Remove the lid and continue baking for an additional 20 minutes, until crust is deeply golden.

Remove and allow to cool completely on a wire rack. Repeat the process to bake your second loaf.

Take the G Train: Masala Knishes

knish_top
January 18, 2012 By In condiments & pickles, eat me, snacks

The winter chill that’s finally spiking the air has shifted kitchen activities to the production of warming comfort foods. By genetics, in this Slavic household that usually translates into dishes heavy (in all senses of the word) on noodles, cabbage, butter, and potatoes–pierogies if I’m feeling especially motivated. By instinct, however, I’m also given to nomadism, so wide swaths of culinary traditions tend to make regular border crossings.

It was that combination of weather and wanderlust that left me looking at my potatoes and feeling torn between knishes and samosas. The spice profile on the typical knish wasn’t packing the heat I was looking for, but even if the temperatures outside allowed for the addition of some body fat, a batch of deep-fried samosas was not how I was looking to apply the extra calories (to myself or my stove top). With years of multicultural fusion under my taste buds, a quick Brooklyn-Queens handshake seemed the obvious way to go.

Making Masala Knishes

Masala Knishes

To make the dough

1/2 cup water
1/4 cup vegetable oil
1 large egg
1/2 tsp. salt
2 1/2 cups flour

In a large bowl or stand mixer, combine water, oil, egg, and salt. Add flour and knead by hook or by hand until dough is soft yet smooth. Place dough in lightly oiled bowl, cover, and refrigerate while you make the filling.

To make the filling

3 Idaho baking potatoes, peeled and cubed
2 T vegetable oil
1/2 tsp. mustard seeds
2 tsp. hot curry powder
1 tsp. garam masala
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 cup onion, chopped
2 jalapeno peppers, finely chopped (adjust type and amount to your taste)
1/2 cup peas
Cayenne and/or black pepper and salt to taste
1 large egg
4 T chopped flat-leaf parsley

Additional egg for wash

Boil potatoes until fork-tender. Drain and set aside.

Heat oil in large skillet. When hot, add mustard seeds and allow to sputter and pop for a few seconds. Then add curry powder, garam masala, garlic, and onion and stir to coat. Continue to cook, stirring frequently, until onion has softened (about 10 minutes).

Pass cooked potatoes through a ricer (or mash with a fork) and add them to the skillet, as well as the jalapeno peppers, peas, and salt and pepper. Mix well and continue to cook until peas and peppers have softened. Remove from heat and set aside. When cool, adjust seasonings as needed and stir in egg and parsley.

Making Masala Knishes

To assemble and bake the masala knishes

When ready to assemble, line a baking sheet with parchment and preheat the oven to 350°F.

Remove dough from the refrigerator and turn it out onto a lightly floured surface. Divide into two portions. Roll the first piece into a 20″ by 10″ rectangle. Spread half the potato mixture along the bottom edge of the dough and roll it up to the top, ending seam-side down. Using a sharp knife or bench scraper, cut the log into 10 2-inch pieces and lay them out cut-side down on the baking sheet. Using your fingers, pull the other side of the cut dough up and over the top of each knish and pinch together, pushing down slightly in the middle of each and shaping gently into a round as needed. Don’t worry if some potato filling escapes through the top or is exposed on the underside. Repeat with remaining dough and filling.

Beat egg with a little water and brush over top of each knish.

Bake for 40 minutes, or until golden. Serve with tasty chutneys, such as this much-recommended cilantro version.

Disclaimer: This recipe was created for the Idaho Potato Commission’s February “Potato Lovers Month” promotion. I was financially compensated for my participation.

Haluski (The Hazards of History)

haliski_top
January 15, 2012 By In eat me, mains

There is perhaps nothing in my cooking repertoire more contrary to presentation here than the shapeless and nearly monochrome combination of cooked cabbage, onion, butter, and noodles that make up haluski. Even with a bit of black pepper and Hungarian paprika, no dressing up for the camera will really make this dish shine (or, frankly, make it appetizing if you don’t already love the tastes you’re anticipating). However, particularly if your grandma used to make it for you, there is really no protection from the winter cold more secure than this supper.

To keep the oven and stove top cranking while I steamed and sauteed my pot of cabbage and onion, I paired the cooking of this noodle dish with the creation of a loaf of soda bread and a buttermilk broccoli soup (to use up the rest of the buttermilk, though I recommend treading carefully with this recipe if nutmeg is not your thing).

Irish Soda Bread

It occurred to me halfway through the cooking that perhaps there were “better” ways to make haluski and that maybe I should have done a bit of Googling before I began cooking. Pretty much every post I turned up after the fact, however, was exactly the dish I had made. (Aside from the one that also included Crisco–yikes! Though if you grew up with a lard version, this may help get you there.)

So fill your kitchen with the aroma of cooking cabbage and think of grandma with love. You’ll be all the warmer for it.

Family Recipes

Guessing Game: The hazards of family recipes

Helen’s Haluski
based on the “um, maybe?” instructions of gram, via my mom

1 medium head of white cabbage, cored and shredded with a knife
1 medium white onion, roughly chopped or thinly sliced in half moons (cook’s preference)
1/2 cup water, plus more as needed
1/2 cup butter
3/4-1 lbs. wide egg noodles
salt, pepper, and paprika to taste

Ingredients

Place cabbage, onion, and water in a large pot. Cover almost completely with lid and heat to steam vegetables for 30 minutes, stirring occasionally and adding more water as needed. Add butter and continue cooking to brown vegetables, about 30 minutes more. Cabbage and onion should be soft and tasty. Remove from heat.

About 15 minutes before vegetables are done, cook noodles according to package directions. Add noodles to cooked vegetables and toss well to combine, seasoning with salt, pepper, and paprika. A dollop of sour cream or some cottage cheese might not be amiss either. (Don’t give me that look.)

Serve with crusty bread, vegetable soup, and pickled beets (or sausages, if you swing that way).

Haluski meal

If On a Winter’s Night a Traveler

stew_alt
January 11, 2012 By In csa & vegetables, eat me, mains, soups

Not long ago, I enjoyed a particularly fantastic supper at Woodberry Kitchen which consisted of navy beans, torn bread, kale, turnips, and smoked red chile, all baked up in a petite cast iron pan and garnished with fresh pea shoots. It was delicious top to bottom, but those torn bread chunks studding the dish–so crisp, so well seasoned, so tasty–have haunted me ever since.

Though I have no wood-fired brick oven here at home, nor any cast iron pans for baking such a dish, I decided to try for an approximation with the ingredients I had on hand.

The stew I came up with was hearty and comforting, but it was ultimately a dish quite unlike the original, of course. It was plenty tasty, sure, but disappointment encroached at the dinner table. I had failed to capture the bread–both in texture and taste. It was good, but it wasn’t that bread. How did they do it?

So it’s back to the drawing board on that part. I’m not even sure what I’m looking for exactly–more of a crouton, perhaps? even drier and spicier than what I made?–but I’ll let you know when I find it.

Meanwhile, this is a dish that would warm and welcome any visitor arriving at your door on a cold night.

Traveler's Stew: Process

Traveler’s Stew

1 1/2 cups crowder peas, cooked
4 T olive oil, divided
1 sprig rosemary
1 small red onion, chopped
2 cups mushrooms, cubed
2 carrots, chopped
2 celery stalks, chopped
28 oz can diced San Marzano tomatoes
1/2 cup red wine
2 tsp. garam masala
1 tsp paprika
2-3 cups swiss chard, de-ribbed and chopped
salt
1 garlic clove, minced
Several slices of crusty bread, cubed (an 8-inch portion of stale baguette works especially well here)
1/4 cup parsley, chopped

Traveler's Stew: Process

In a 4 qt. oven-safe pot, heat 2 T olive oil and sizzle rosemary to infuse. Add onion and saute until softened, then stir in mushrooms and continue cooking until they release their juices. Remove and discard the rosemary and add the carrots, celery, beans, tomatoes (with their juice), wine and spices to the pot, and simmer, stirring occasionally, for 30 minutes, until the carrots have softened. Add the swiss chard, and continue cooking 10-15 minutes more, until greens are wilted and flavors well merged. Season with salt as needed.

While you wait for the greens to cook down, preheat the broiler and heat the remaining 2T olive oil in a skillet. Add the garlic to infuse the oil and then add the bread cubes, tossing to coat with the oil. Continue to toast them in the pan, stirring occasionally to prevent burning, until the cubes are golden, about 7 minutes.

When ready to serve, layer the bread on top of the stew. I decided to push the chunks down into the liquid just slightly to soak them into the tomato broth somewhat, then I placed the pot under the broiler for a few minute to recrisp the bread and actually burn it just a bit (personal preference).

Remove from oven and garnish with parsley. Serve piping hot.

Traveler's Stew

One Potato, Two Potato

potatosoup_top
January 8, 2012 By In eat me, soups

In the wake of post-holiday food fussing, iced over (literally) with a business trip to Chicago, my motivation to prepare anything with more than three steps and a can opener has gone into winter hibernation.

Still, even in my sloth-like state, I was willing to put down my book and get out from under my blanket long enough to fire up the oven and roast a few potatoes for this no-brainer soup. Just like a baked potato, it’s a hearty blank slate to which you can to add whatever toppings you like.

Baked Potato Soup

Tom’s Baked Potato Soup
adapted from my dad’s “I don’t think I have ever done it the same way twice” recipe

6 baking potatoes
1/2 cup butter
1/3 cup flour
3 cups milk
2 cups vegetable broth
1 cup sweet white onion, chopped
5 cloves of garlic, minced
salt and pepper
topping additions of your choice

Preheat oven to 425°F and line a baking sheet with foil.

Scrub potatoes and pierce each several times with a fork. Coat each spud with olive oil and place on the baking sheet. Roast for one hour and set aside. When cool enough to handle, scoop out flesh into a bowl and mash slightly.

Dad says: “Leave it kind of chunky. Have a cooking apprentice there to do your bidding. You can play the part of Chef Ramsey, but do not say the F-word as much as he does unless you have a bleeper device handy.” Save skins for snacking.

Melt butter in a large soup pot and saute onion and garlic until tender. Add flour a little at a time and stir constantly, cooking off the raw flour taste. Add milk and continue to stir until thickened. Add broth and potato flesh to the pan and continue to stir, breaking up larger potato chunks with the back of the spoon. (I have also found mashing a pastry cutter around the pot very useful in this situation, or sometimes when I want a creamier soup, I run my immersion blender around it a few times. Cook’s choice.)

Dad notes: “You can add more milk or broth if you want, but it’s supposed to be somewhat thick. Salt and pepper if you want to. (White peppercorns if you have them. Do not want specks in the soup, now do we?) Serve hot. Can top with cheese, chives, bacon bits (oops, bits are for carnivores only).”

I usually just add lots and lots of dill, but this weekend I decided to kick in a couple tablespoons of horseradish-tinged mustard. The soup is a blank canvas; go crazy. It stores well, but may need thinned with broth or milk when reheating.

The Things We Ate (Christmas 2011 Edition)

bread_top
December 30, 2011 By In breads & breakfast, eat me, soups

The Christmas week here at Wonderland Kitchen annually includes three or more solid days of feeding six adult people. Sure, we get a restaurant meal in one evening and nosh on plenty of cookies along the way, but a little cafeteria strategy keeps us from going hungry without someone spending the entire holiday in front of the stove.

This year, my plan was homemade soups and breads, rounded out with some store-bought meats and cheeses for sandwich-making, so that a variety of meal combinations could be patched together to match the widest variety of tastes and dietary requirements.

To that end, I started researching options that might make a dent in the supplies offered by my (previously!) over-stocked pantry, and we ended up with some real winners. I wasn’t planning to post these dishes, so I didn’t take the usual series of process shots, but some of the recipes I discovered were just too tasty to horde for myself.

The Breads:

I made these both pretty much exactly as outlined in the linked recipes, no real adaptation or tweaks required.

Tomato, Basil, and Garlic Filled Pane Bianco
from Dianna Wara/King Arthur Flour

Tomato, Basil, and Garlic Filled Pane Bianco

Looked like such a challenge, but it really wasn’t (so perfect for entertaining!). I admit I was skeptical about using scissors to cut open my loaf before shaping, so at first I tried using a serrated knife. That was a fail. Just use the scissors. The good people at King Arthur Flour know what they are talking about without my interventions.

New York Deli Rye
from Smitten Kitchen/The Bread Bible

New York Deli Rye

The only switch up I employ here is to form the loaf into a batard shape and slash it deeply across four or five times. I bake it with the ice/steam method suggested.

The Soups:

(Absolutely the Best, Most Awesome) Cream of Tomato Soup (Ever!)
from Smitten Kitchen/The America’s Test Kitchen Cookbook

Cream of Tomato Soup

I skipped the brandy and the cayenne pepper, because I worried it would scare off my family, and I didn’t think the soup needed any additional salt. I immediately ate two bowls.

Gypsy Soup
from The Yellow House/Mollie Katzen’s The New Moosewood Cookbook

Gypsy Soup

This seemed like a great dish to keep warm on the back burner and feed to arriving family members after their long drives to our house. It made a huge amount, and yet it seems to have disappeared. I’ll be keeping this one in the winter rotation.

I swapped potatoes/sweet potatoes for the squash (that’s what I had), used swiss chard for the greens (my preference in most cooking cases), and mixed a spice combination of 1 tsp. hot curry, 2 tsps. garam masala, and 3 tsps. sweet Hungarian paprika (in place of the turmeric, paprika, bay leaf, and cayenne indicated in the recipe).